


leaves and kings

by arteriole



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, senior year-related angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arteriole/pseuds/arteriole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things won't ever change. But, Hajime thinks, there's no need to avert his eyes anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leaves and kings

**Author's Note:**

> this iwaoi fucker finally got around to, you know, actually writing iwaoi
> 
> title is from the Josh Ritter song of the same name!

_like leaves and kings, all things must fall_

 

 

—————

 

 

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Tooru had asked him the day before they started high school as he lay on the floor of Hajime’s bedroom, spinning a volleyball nimbly between his fingers, “ _I’m still going to be your best friend, right?_ ”

Hajime had scoffed. “ _You’re always going to be my best friend, dumbass. Some things won’t ever change_.”

There had been no hesitation in his answer. There had never needed to be.

It had never even occurred to him to wonder if, had he asked the same question, Tooru’s answer would be the same—he just assumed that it would be.

 

 

—————

 

 

Some things won’t ever change, Hajime thinks, and it _sucks_.

It sucks because he’s sitting here, in Japanese literature class, staring blankly in the general direction of his teacher, who’s still talking about that novel that Hajime forgot to look up the online summary of. It sucks, because he’s here, and they never _did_ defeat Shiratorizawa, and _Kageyama_ , of all people, did, and now _he’s_ going to nationals with the rest of Karasuno. And Hajime’s in... literature class.

Briefly, he spares a glance across the room to Oikawa. He looks like he normally does in class, making that stupid face that teachers usually interpret as pensive (but that Hajime knows to be masking the fact that he’s not paying the class any attention), eyes fixed on the front of the room. But his leg isn’t bouncing up and down under his desk like it usually does; his lips aren’t quirked into a thoughtful half-smile like they usually are, instead in a firm, straight, serious line.

Oikawa meets Hajime’s gaze across the room and the almost-smile appears for a split second, a little more forced than usual, and he sits up a little straighter.

Hajime turns back to watch the teacher as she writes on the board, then, but in his peripheral vision he can see Oikawa’s posture slump as his shoulders hunch forward slightly. The movement is hardly perceptible, and Hajime gets a strange feeling in his chest, like he’s seen something that he shouldn’t. For all that he has seen Oikawa at his most vulnerable, it’s never been in public; and seeing it as such is like watching the walls of a stronghold come down.

 

 

—————

 

 

There are moments when it’s okay, and there are moments when nothing is even close to okay.

 _Bring it on,_ Oikawa had said to him after the match. At the moment, it had felt good. Some things wouldn’t ever change, and they—the two of them, best friends, teammates, _always_ —were one of those things. Now, though, as Hajime thinks about the words, they feel bitter. He’s ready, he thinks, for when he’ll face Oikawa, but he’s not ready for anything else. He’s not ready to be done with high school volleyball, and he’s not ready to not see his friends at practice every day, and he’s not ready to not text Oikawa the night before matches reminding him to go to sleep.

He’s not ready for any of the things that come with facing Oikawa, and as he lies awake in bed, the realization hits him like a freight train.

 

 

—————

 

 

Oikawa’s frequent visits to Hajime’s house become less frequent.

He’s trying to focus on his grades now, he tells Hajime, because he _does_ need to get into a university to continue playing volleyball. They both know that this is a shit excuse; Oikawa’s always done infuriatingly well in school and has already received offers from universities.

But he needs space, and Hajime gets that. He needs space, even from his best friend.

Hajime gets used to studying without Oikawa’s chattering in the background. He starts listening to music when he studies, because since his brothers moved out it’s always been a little quiet for his liking and since Oikawa stopped coming over it’s been _too_ quiet.

They don’t talk about volleyball anymore when Oikawa comes over, and most of their time together becomes confined to school, the walk home, and video games. It’s kind of weird—they used to talk about anything, everything, but recently, silence has been more than enough. Hajime gets it. And Oikawa needs space, and that’s okay, and Hajime will give it to him.

And then the visits stop altogether.

 

 

—————

 

 

Some things stay the same.

Oikawa still sits down at lunch with the carefully-assembled bento that his mother makes for him every morning, Hanamaki still tries to mooch off of everyone else’s lunches, and Matsukawa is still a shitty cook.

At lunch, Hajime likes to think that nothing has changed. All that has changed is that they won’t be seeing each other after school for practice anymore. All that has changed is that volleyball isn’t mentioned, not even once. So it’s a little different, but they’re still together, the three of them. It’s still the same in all the ways that matter.

“One day,” Hanamaki says, jabbing his chopsticks accusingly at Oikawa, having been refused a piece of tempura, “you will be a grown-ass man and you will starve to death because your mother won’t be there to make all your meals anymore.”

“ _Mean, Makki,_ ” Oikawa cries, clasping his hand to his chest dramatically.

Hanamaki seizes his opportunity and grabs the shrimp and shoves it into his mouth as quickly as possible, and Matsukawa cackles when Oikawa lets loose a horrified gasp that Hajime’s sure Oikawa thinks sounds cute (but really just sounds a bit like a seal’s mating call).

He laughs at the petulant pout on Oikawa’s face, and for the first time they lost to Karasuno, things feel truly _normal_.

 

 

—————

 

 

They stop walking home together.

They don’t have to walk home together after practice anymore—they never will again, a realization which stings more than their loss in the preliminaries—and Hajime never can seem to find Oikawa before they walk home. But Oikawa can manage, Hajime tells himself; he is a seventeen-year-old boy who is perfectly capable of walking home alone.

The trek home is lonely, and Hajime misses the way that Oikawa’s arm would bump against his when they walked, the way Oikawa’s laugh sounded against the sound of Miyagi, the way that even when neither of them were talking, it didn’t feel like silence.

Walking home alone, things are silent.

Of course, they aren’t actually silent; Hajime, however, hardly hears the chirping of birds or lull of car engines. All he hears is the absence of Oikawa’s voice, his laugh, his footsteps—Oikawa. Nothing sounds like anything when Oikawa isn’t there with him, and he’s left alone with no company but his own thoughts.

He realizes that maybe he needs Oikawa more than Oikawa needs him, and the idea is suffocating.

 

 

—————

 

 

They’re still best friends, Hajime tries to convince himself. They’re still best friends, even if they haven’t walked home together for a week now and Oikawa’s left their lunch group to spend time with this—this _girl_ who confessed to him yesterday.

They’re still best friends and there’s no reason to be jealous.

There’s no reason to be jealous when Hamada-kun becomes _Emi-chan_ and Emi-chan becomes a girlfriend, when Oikawa starts spending only every other day with him and Matsukawa and Hanamaki, when the few days that they walk home together turn into none.

There’s no reason for the way that Hajime’s days become longer, the way that there’s this melancholy fatigue he can’t seem to shake whenever Oikawa’s not around, the way that he’s conscious of what he’s saying to his best friend.

There’s no reason, and Hajime hates himself for making mountains out of molehills.

 

 

—————

 

 

At first Hajime uses the opportunity to spend more time with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. It’s good, he thinks, to strengthen his friendship with them. Maybe they’ll be able to stay good friends through university, even, despite the fact that he’s always assumed that Oikawa would be the only one he’d keep in contact with.

It’s good. He’s always enjoyed their company, even though with Oikawa off with his girlfriend it’s… quieter. But it’s still good. Hajime actually _does_ have friends aside from Oikawa, and he’s perfectly capable of enjoying himself with them.

But then one day when he’s heading home he sees Oikawa with Hamada-san, their height difference almost comical. There’s a strange feeling in his chest, like it’s constricting, and suddenly it’s a little harder to breathe and it’s just because he’s happy, he tells himself, he’s just happy to see his best friend happy.

Hajime can vaguely hear her say something that sounds like a joke, and he can’t make out the words from the distance at which he walks behind him, but then Oikawa laughs, and god, Hajime has missed that, and he smiles at Hamada like she’s the sun and—

And Hajime’s hit with the feeling that it’s _wrong_ , that no one should look at anyone like that unless they’re looking at Oikawa, because damn it, Oikawa shines brighter than the sun.

Hajime averts his eyes from the scene and keeps walking.

 

 

—————

 

 

“ _I should have tossed to Mad Dog-chan_ ,” Oikawa tells Hajime in his nightmares, a disappointed expression—maybe the worst one, Hajime thinks—on his face. “ _I should’ve known you couldn’t do it.”_

And it’s not true, Hajime knows, tells himself. Oikawa doesn’t think that, he’d never say that, he’d never think that. He doesn’t blame Hajime for the loss, he knows—that dumbass blames himself.

Still, Hajime finds himself increasingly careful about the things he says when he’s around Oikawa. It’s stupid, he thinks, that suddenly he’s so worried about what his best friend thinks of him. Space, he thinks, he’s giving Oikawa space. And besides, Oikawa’s been spending so much time with Hamada that she might as well be his best friend. After all, she’s already his girlfriend.

Jealousy, Hajime learns, is an awful feeling.

 

 

—————

 

 

It’s December when Hamada dumps Oikawa. _“She broke up with me,”_ Oikawa insists, but it doesn’t change the fact that Hamada did, indeed, dump him, and she was none too kind about it, either.

If the way that Oikawa had phased himself out of their daily routines in the past few months was quick, the way he integrates himself back into them only takes an instant.

All of a sudden it’s like nothing happened, like the only thing that’s different is that they no longer play volleyball. Like the space that Hajime’s been giving him wasn’t there, like there was no awkwardness, no hesitation, no ex-girlfriends.

If he didn’t know Oikawa so well, Hajime might actually buy it.

But he sees the way that the smiles are more forced than before, he knows that Oikawa studies in the library and then practices in the gym once the volleyball club has left, he knows that things _aren’t_ the same.

 

 

—————

 

 

Hajime almost doesn’t hear his phone ring over the music that he’s blasting. He pauses his music as soon as he sees Oikawa’s name on the caller ID.

“ _Iwa-chan?_ ”

God, Hajime can’t remember the last time that Oikawa sounded so… _pathetic_.

“What happened?” he asks, forgoing a greeting. Something’s wrong, he can hear it, Oikawa just called for the first time in at least a month, and the situation suddenly becomes all the more urgent.

“ _Can I just—can I come over?_ ”

“Yeah, how long—”

Hajime holds his phone back from his ear. Oikawa has the nerve to fucking hang up on him after just all of—all of _that_ , and Hajime has no idea what’s actually wrong, and—and when he looks at his phone, there are three missed calls from Oikawa from when he was studying.

“Shit,” he says, out loud, and then he hears the doorbell.

When he opens the door, Oikawa looks pathetic. He starts, “Iwa-chan—”

“What the _fuck_ , dumbass?” Hajime says, yanking him inside the door. “How long have you been standing out there in the cold?”

“Just for a few minutes,” he says, and Hajime doesn’t buy it for a second. Not when the first of the missed calls was from fifteen minutes ago.

It’s only when they’re in Hajime’s room and Oikawa’s shed his coat and is sitting, cross-legged, across from Hajime that he speaks again.

“Emi-chan is going out with Ken-chan,” he says, slowly, quietly, carefully.

All of a sudden, Hajime doesn’t feel guilt for feeling jealous. He doesn’t feel ashamed for disliking Oikawa’s little ex-girlfriend with the constellation-shaped hair clips. This girl—this girl who Oikawa had looked at like she was the fucking _sun_ —broke his heart. And Hajime hates her for it, hates her more than he’s probably hated anyone.

“Hamada is—” Hajime cuts himself off, though, because Oikawa’s crying and _shit_ , he’s never cried over a girlfriend before.

“Hey,” Hajime starts again, pulling Tooru into the closest embrace that they’ve shared for months, “Hamada’s an idiot. She’s an idiot for—for dumping you. And you deserve so much better than her, you deserve so much—”

Tooru squeezes him tighter, then, and Hajime can tell by the way that he’s buried his face in Hajime’s neck that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. They sit there, a little too far apart for the embrace to not be slightly awkward, and Tooru whispers, “I’ve missed you, Iwa-chan.”

“I’ve missed you too, dumbass,” Hajime says.

When Tooru pulls away a few minutes later, he says, “I’m okay.” And then, “I will be okay.” And finally, “I’ll be okay because I’m so lucky to have Iwa-chan.” He smiles, then, the most genuine smile that Hajime has seen on his face in so long, and—

And Hajime looks down at the floor, because watching Tooru is like gazing straight into the sun.

 

 

—————

 

 

“Shit,” Hajime says out loud to himself as he lays awake in bed. “ _Shit_ ,” he repeats, with a little more feeling.

He and Tooru—they’ve always been different. Since they were in middle school Oikawa’s had girls flocking to him, and loved it. And then they got to high school, and suddenly boys were in the picture too. Hajime knows. It’s not a secret between them that Oikawa’s interested—sexually _and_ romantically—in both boys and girls. It’s never been a problem, just a fact.

Hajime just never thought that it would be relevant to him—no, _them_.

He’s never had a crush, not really. It’s never been a priority, dating. And sure, a couple girls have confessed to him, and he politely turned each of them down. He just… never thought about it. It never came up, so why would he? It was great—he could attend to his studies and play volleyball without distractions. It had always worked well in the past.

Except now he wishes he’d put a little more thought into it, because _shit_ , he thinks he might just be in love with his best friend.

 

 

—————

 

 

If Tooru notices a difference, he says nothing, and Hajime appreciates it.

It’s not worth it, Hajime decides as he watches Tooru try to steal his onigiri back from Hanamaki. Not worth it. Not when everything is starting to go back to the way that it should be. Not when, if he says something, he could lose all of this.

Tooru shoves the entire rice ball into his mouth victoriously, and even with bits of rice falling out of his mouth as he chews, Hajime thinks he’s never been more in love. This— _this_ is what he could lose.

He’s not going to risk it, and he’s not sure if he’d ever want to.

They slip back into routine and it’s like it used to be, almost.

Tooru still shines like the sun and Hajime still looks upon him in wonder.

Some things won’t ever change.

 

 

—————

 

 

They had agreed early in the school year that they wouldn’t tell each other where they were going to university until they had both accepted.

“I’m going to Nippon,” Hajime tells him finally one day, after they’ve both lost all focus on their schoolwork. “Sport Science University,” he adds.

Tooru stares at him then, and Hajime feels self-conscious suddenly as he knows that Tooru is figuring out exactly why he’s going into sport science, but then he breaks into a grin. “I accepted the offer from Meiji,” he says. He pauses, and then adds, “You know, Iwa-chan… we could live together.”

And then Hajime’s smiling too, and he laughs out loud, because things are finally going the way they’re supposed to.

 

 

—————

 

 

“Yes, _yes_ , we stocked the refrigerator. Yes, _real food_. No, I’m not going to—that’s what I have Iwa-chan for, Iwa-chan is going to cook for me! Yes, I’m sure. I love you, too— _goodbye_.” Tooru snaps his cell phone shut (something that Hajime suspects he has spent time practicing and perfecting). “My mother loves you than she loves me, Iwa-chan,” he huffs.

“Everyone does,” Hajime says as he cuts the tape on the nearest box. “Now get off your ass and help me unpack.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan,” Tooru whines, but obliges, grabbing the nearest pair of scissors and getting to work on another cardboard box.

They work in silence for a moment, and then he says, “This is our apartment, Iwa-chan. _Ours_.”

“ _Ours_ ,” Hajime repeats, almost reverently, and then he can’t help the splitting grin. “Our apartment.”

 

 

—————

 

 

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru asks them after they’ve both gotten into bed, their rooms on opposite sides of the tiny apartment bedroom, “did you ever think we’d end up here? Still best friends,” he clarifies.

“Of course, dumbass,” Hajime says. And then he adds, “Some things won’t ever change.”

Tooru hums to himself, content with Hajime’s answer. “Iwa-chan is so sentimental,” he says, and Hajime doesn’t have to look to know he’s smiling. Even in the dark, his smile is like sunshine, and Hajime still stands back to watch him shine.

But, Hajime thinks, there’s no need to avert his eyes anymore.

 

 

—————

 

 

_but now, out of the dark and out of the blue,_

_like leaves and kings, i’ve fallen in love with you_

 

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to tag this as 'ace iwa' and then i was like, wait, he's both ace in this fic and _the_ ace. heh. he's ace in more than one sense, i guess?
> 
> cry about iwaoi with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/chineseporkbun)


End file.
